Page 17 of The Interns

“Do I look like I got the means to be hirin’ anybody?” he cracked, snorting while he laughed at the notion.

She glanced up at Reed, wordlessly asking him to take a shot at communicating with their client since she didn’t seem to be getting through. He understood and stepped forward.

“We’re with King and Associates in Atlanta,” Reed tried. “Somehow we got assigned to your battery case.”

“King?” Mr. Johnson began to snicker to himself as he whispered the word again before curling his lip and pointing a finger at them, giving his best Elvis Presley impression while he bellowed off key about a hound dog before devolving into laughter again.

Reed glanced at her, his upper lip twitched slightly as he breathed out through his nose. Well, this is different. His impatience was subtle, but noticeable since he was typically so frustratingly laid-back.

“Not that King,” Reed said evenly. “You know, we came all the way out here, so we might as well talk. See if we can help you in some way, right?”

“Like I said before, I don’t need no one’s help.”

Mr. Johnson pulled his head back from the crack in the door and began to move his hand down to the doorknob to close it in their faces, but Reed slipped his hand through the space to stop him.

“Then you’re looking at a year in jail and a five thousand dollar fine,” Reed warned without mincing words. “I think we can do better than that.”

Maya’s eyes widened at his firm tone. He stared at Johnson, his head slightly cocked to one side as the two men carried out some sort of silent negotiation. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two until Johnson broke, bowing his head and opening the door wider to allow his counsel inside. Reed nodded and started to step inside which caused the mouthy little mutt to start up again.

“Oh, shut up,” Johnson griped as he scooped her up in his arms and took off for the hallway. “Come on.”

Maya lingered behind Reed as he walked into the house, glad that his back was to her so that he couldn’t see the grin she tried to conceal. Of course she knew he was a cop in his former life, but it was the first time she had actually seen that side of him in action, and it was…impressive? It was a lot of things, actually, but that was all she’d allow herself to admit considering they were on the clock and he was her coworker. She shook the thoughts out of her head then followed after him.

7

Reed

The minute Reed stepped inside the house, he quickly processed the sights, smells, and sounds. Casing the joint, some would call it, though he wouldn’t since a certain someone liked to remind him that he wasn’t a cop anymore. Investigation was as important to the job as being able to write a flawless brief, however, at least for this kind of case.

A floral print couch that had seen better days, a coffee table, and two mismatched side tables were crammed into the small living room. The light blue recliner in the corner facing the television set seemed to be where Johnson spent most of his time as evidenced by the newspapers, food wrappers, and empty cans that littered the brown shag carpet around it. The tray table next to the chair had a six-pack of cheap beer on it along with a bowl of half-eaten cereal. Reed walked over to the table and ran his finger along one of the cans, clearing a trail where he wiped off the condensation.

“Somebody started early.”

“He is in no shape to consent to a deal today,” Maya whispered as she came to his side.

“No,” he agreed. “But we’re here, so we can at least start to feel him out.”

“You want one?”

They looked up from their spot over his half-drunk six-pack to find Mr. Johnson stumbling back into the living room and straight for his chair.

“We’re good,” Reed said as he held up his hand. “We read the reports and saw the security camera footage from your case. You clocked your boss pretty good.”

“Son of a bitch deserved it.” He popped the top on another cold one and flopped into his recliner.

“Have you ever had any problems like this before?” Maya asked. “With the law?”

“You don’t pussyfoot around at all, do you, darlin’?” He smirked and pointed his beer toward Reed. “Watch yourself with this one.”

Reed glanced at Maya who was already giving their client a disapproving stare, and clearly not needing him to come to her defense which he found impressive, though not at all surprising as he’d been on the receiving end of that glare more than a few times this week.

“Yeah, I’ve been arrested before,” Johnson answered finally. “A D.U.I. a few years back. Nothin’ more than anyone else in this town.”

“How long did you work for Mr. Prescott’s plumbing company?” she followed up.

“Twenty-two years. Only job I ever had.”

“That’s a long time,” Reed pointed out. “Longer than most marriages.”

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